


we compare our hearts to things that fly but do not land

by majesdane



Category: Sucker Punch (2011)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the third reality. <i>Do you remember the first day I came here?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	we compare our hearts to things that fly but do not land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliceblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliceblue/gifts).



  
when we love, we always strive to become better than we are. when we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.  
\-- paulo coleho    


 

Do you remember, Babydoll asks, rolling onto her side so that they face each other, do you remember the first day I came here?

It feels like it was ages ago, even though it's only been a little more than half a year. Sweet Pea says as much.

So much happens to them, all the time, that she can barely keep track of everything; she's only always able to recall the most mundane things: helping Rocket tie her shoes, writing down notes in algebra class, that sort of thing. But she does remember the way blade of Babydoll's katana glinted in the sunlight when she demonstrated attack moves in the garden that afternoon, after the Wise Man had introduced her to the group.

Sweet Pea remembers, too, the softness of the fabric of Babydoll's uniform under her hand, when she touched Babydoll's shoulder. She remembers a smile shared between them as they passed each other in the hallway in the evening, both of them getting ready for bed. She remembers how Babydoll's hair, let down, fell in small, gentle waves, cascading down her back, over her shoulders.

It looks like that now; she reaches forward and brushes the hair out of Babydoll's eyes -- hues of browns and greens, like a forest -- before letting her hand slip down, fingers brushing against the flat plane of Babydoll's stomach. Babydoll tenses, laughs, underneath her touch; it makes Sweet Pea's heart swell in her chest.

A year ago, she would have never even dreamed of something like this happening: falling in love with a girl. And yet, the falling part had been so, so easy, she'd barely even noticed. Not until one day, when, sitting together on the couch, the two of them reading, Babydoll had reached across the space between them and put her hand on Sweet Pea's. How simple a gesture it had been, and yet, it had said so much.

Babydoll's lips had been soft and giving against her own, her free hand going up to Sweet Pea's chest, fingers knitting into the front of her summer dress, pulling her in closer. Sweet Pea's book slipped off her lap and fell to the floor, where it stayed, forgotten.

I remember being nervous about meeting everyone, Babydoll tells her. I didn't know what to expect. But then I just . . . saw you, and I was okay. It was the strangest thing. She pauses, hips twitching slightly as Sweet Pea's fingers trail up and across them. You know, she says, we knew each other. Before now, I mean. Or, well, I knew you.

Oh?

We went to elementary school together, she explains. It was a long time ago, and you and Rocket were in grades above me. I think I was, oh, seven, maybe? Or eight. Eight. It was a year before our family moved down to Brattleboro when my mother remarried. One day, at recess, I saw you get into a fight.

Sweet Pea grins. I think I remember that, actually. It probably had something to do with Rocket, didn't it? I remember I ended up with a bloody nose and my mother was furious with me for getting blood on my school blouse.

Babydoll laughs again, kissing the corner of her mouth. Yes, it was about Rocket. I don't know what, specifically. I think a boy was teasing her or something. You got into a scuffle and he ended up with a black eye. And you told him not to bother Rocket again, or else. She smiles, remembering. That's when I knew, she says.

Sweet Pea's hand lingers on her thigh. Knew what? she asks.

Love.

What do you mean, 'love'? Sweet Pea moves her fingers to trace the word along the slight curve of Babydoll's hip, the letters round and looping. What a small word, Sweet Pea thinks, for such an enormous feeling. She reaches forward and cups Sweet Pea's face in her hand, draws their mouths together. Kisses her once, very, very gently.

I mean, _love_ , Babydoll tells her, letting her hand rest against Sweet Pea's cheek, thumb stroking back and forth across the soft, warm skin, just below her eye. I don't know how else to say it. It's just love. Love is being strong for someone when they can't be strong for themselves. And asking for nothing in return.

I suppose that's true, isn't it? Sweet Pea muses with a smile, closing her eyes and bringing her hand up to cover Babydoll's. I hadn't ever really thought about it before.

Like you, I'm the older sister too. I think that's why it meant so much to me, seeing what you did. But that one moment there -- that's why I joined the Organization, Babydoll tells her. She leans forward and kisses Sweet Pea a second time, before rolling over onto her back, taking Sweet Pea's hand with her, their fingers intertwining. That memory always stuck with me -- and the idea, too, of love being the thing that makes you want to protect someone. I liked the idea of being able to help people. To be strong for them.

Sweet Pea laughs, though not unkindly. Really?

Babydoll shrugs slightly. So few people actually know just what we do for them. Most people have no idea the kind of risks we take to keep them happy. But I like that -- we don't do it because we want recognition for our good, brave deeds. We do it because we care. In a way, I suppose, I love everyone.

You're so sweet. Sweet Pea laughs again, pressing little, light kisses along Babydoll's shoulder. It's very endearing.

It's strange though, isn't it? Babydoll asks, a few moments later, pulling the sheets and blankets up around them; the days are cooler now, the autumn season quietly slipping into winter. That we should be together again here, of all places, after so many years. Like it was fated.

Sweet Pea curls in closer against Babydoll with a yawn, her head resting against Babydoll's shoulder. I didn't think you believed in something like that, she murmurs, wrapping an arm around Babydoll.

I don't, Babydoll admits with a smile, kissing the side of Sweet Pea's head, through her hair. But it's a nice enough idea, isn't it?


End file.
